


Come Morning Light (You and I Will Be Safe and Sound)

by maliayukimura



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Class Differences, Edwardian Period, F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, RMS Titanic, Suicide Attempt, Titanic AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:44:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliayukimura/pseuds/maliayukimura
Summary: Betrothed to a wealthy man that she does not love and can barely stand, Lydia furtively dreamed of another life. Upon boarding the RMS Titanic, her life gets turned around when she meets Cora Hale, a penniless artist from third class, who shows her just what she's been missing out on in life. Lydia is torn between the life she was expected to have with Jackson and the life she has always dreamed of with Cora. Will she follow the societal expectations for her or will Lydia follow her heart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just the Titanic AU that no one asked for.

* * *

 

The air was crisp with the smell of sea salt. Crowds of hundreds gathered along the street to watch the Titanic take off of on her maiden voyage. The crowds of people looked puny in comparison to the ship itself. People of all social standing cheered as they watched loved ones board the behemoth of ship.

Lydia took Jackson’s hand for support as she climbed out of the automobile. Once she was back on the ground she dropped his hand in favor of readjusting her hat and looking out at the ship with indifference.

“I don’t understand what the big fuss is for,” Lydia said, her voice dripping with disdain.”It’s just a boat.”

They say it was the ship of dreams, and maybe it was, but for Lydia, each step toward the looming vessel felt an awful lot like a funeral march.

Regardless, she kept her head held high as she board. Lydia was raised as a high class lady and she damn well planned on acting like one - even if it went against every fiber of her being.

“Just a boat,” her fiancé, Jackson Whittemore of the steel tycoon  Whittemores, scoffed. “This is not just any old boat, woman. This is the _Titanic_ , the finest vessel ever built. It is crafted out of the best steel money can buy, and I should know - most of the steel used was bought from my family’s company. It is said that God himself could not sink this ship.”

Lydia made her way up the gangway, not bothering to wait for Jackson to lead the way. “Whatever you say, dear.”

She could hear Jackson and her mother gossiping about the wonders of the ship in the background. To Lydia, it was just another ship.

When they reached their stateroom, she listened as her mother, Natalie Martin, and Jackson fawned over the room. Lydia could see the appeal of the room, beautifully decorated with deep maghonys, brilliant golds, and rich reds, but after countless beautifully crafted stateroom after stateroom in various hotels and ships, they all started to blur together. The quite expansive and luxurious room felt small and restricting. Lydia felt as though she was suffocating. Only in the first class could someone tire of the lavish lifestyle like this. Lydia could feel herself becoming physically ill from the room and all its restrictions.

“Darling, you are looking a bit green,” Natalie said, not bothering to look up from the silk sheet she was examining and just a morsel of concern in her voice. She was much more interested in the luxuries in their suite than her own daughter’s state of health. “You ought to go get some fresh air. Perhaps you should take a stroll along the promenade?”

“Yes mother,” Lydia replied emotionless, much like an automaton.  

“Make sure you're back in time to get ready for dinner tonight,” Natalie called out.

“Yes mother,” Lydia repeated in the same monotone voice as before.

And with that Lydia put on shawl before slipping out of the room, off to explore the ship on her own. At least then she wouldn’t be forced to keep a polite conversation with her mother, her fiance, and any other socialites that may soon be invited into the suite. Instead she was granted with some precious moments to herself.

 

* * *

 

Lydia strolled along the promenade, lost in her own thoughts.  It was only when she was struck by something, or rather someone, was she brought back to reality.

Upon first glance, Lydia had though she had walked into a teenage boy from a much lower class, but upon further inspect she realized that the stranger was a girl about her age in trousers and blouse with her hair cropped at her chin. Although she was right about the stranger being from a lower class, judging by the filthy and ill-fitting clothes.

“This deck is for first class only,” Lydia informed the stranger.

The girl let out a rueful laugh. “Of course. Wouldn’t want us lowly peasants ruining the view, now would we, Princess?”

Lydia scoffed. “I’m hardly a princess.”

“Could have fooled me,” the girl muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Lydia to hear.

“Excuse me?” Lydia asked, offended by the rude girl.

The girl stood up straighter and looked Lydia in the eye. “You claim to not be a princess, and yet you have all these luxuries here for your enjoyment and comfort while the rest of us are forced to share a bathtub with our whole class for the duration of the trip.”

Lydia shifted uncomfortably in place. She wasn’t sure what to say to that.

The girl took Lydia’s silence as confirmation for what she already thought. Lydia was privileged. She was essentially princess living in the luxury while the girl was just common folk. They were from two different worlds that would never see eye to eye.

It was time for the two girls go back to their own worlds and forget about their encounter.

The girl turned on her heels without another order to Lydia.  She made her way off slowly but there was a confidence in her walk. Lydia felt a strange stirring inside her, like butterflies in her stomach, as she watched the girl leave.

There was just something about the girl that intrigued her. “Wait,” Lydia called after her.

The girl spun around, a questioning look on her face.

“What is your name?” Lydia asked, unconsciously taking a step closer to the girl.

“Cora,” the girl said, taking a step back. It was as though they were dancing with one another.

“Cora?” Lydia repeated, taking another step closer.

The girl smirked as she stepped back. “Yes. Cora.”

And with that she turned to leave, but before she actually left, Cora looked over her shoulder back at Lydia and called out, “If we run into each other again, I’ll give you my full name, Princess.”

Lydia watched as Cora left, completely stunned that someone of a lower class had the audacity to speak to her like that. But Lydia wasn’t actually mad - she felt confused. There was something about Cora that made her feel things that Lydia never felt before. She hoped that they would see each other again soon.

Afterwards, she slowly made her way back to her room to rest until dinner, still entranced by the girl.

 

* * *

 

Lydia found herself daydreaming about that strange girl from earlier. There was just something about her that left Lydia fascinated. Cora was mysterious and aloof but yet still so familiar, as though Lydia had always known her.

Maybe they had been friends in a past life.

Maybe they had lived in a far off land, free of controlling fiancé and overbearing mothers.

Maybe they were happy.

Maybe they had been lovers. The mere thought of that brought a blush to Lydia’s cheeks. She wasn’t as opposed to the idea as she thought she would have been. She could easily see herself falling in love with Cora.

Lydia dreamed about living with Cora in a small but comfortable house and raising a family together. The mere thought of it brought a smile to her face. Her daydream was much more pleasant than her actual life.

It wasn’t until she glanced at the clock did Lydia snap out of her daydream. She wasn’t in some small town raising a family with some stranger that she just met. She was engaged to Jackson Whittemore, a member of the wealthiest families in America, and her family could greatly use the money after her father gambled away their own family fortune, leaving them with nothing but their good name. Lydia could not afford to be off daydreaming about a life she could never have. She needed to accept the fact that she would be dependant on Jackson, for her family’s sake.

Lydia called out for her servants to come help her dress for dinner. Once her corset was pulled tight and her dress was on, Lydia made her way out to the sitting room to wait for Jackson to escort her to dinner.

After a few minutes, Jackson came out of his room. He looked Lydia up and down, scrutinizing her outfit. “You’re wearing that dress for dinner?”

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest indignantly. He had made her change her dress twice before they had originally boarded the Titanic because first because it was bad luck to wear black to a ship’s launch, especially on its maiden voyage, and second because he didn’t think that green was a good color for Lydia’s complexion. She may be forced to marry Jackson for the sake of her family but that did not mean that she actually liked him. “What is that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with my dress this time?”

Jackson’s look of disgust quickly morphed into one of shock. He wasn’t expecting Lydia to talk back to him. He quickly recovered, bringing a more neutral expression to his face. “Nothing, dear. You look lovely.”

With that, the two made their way done to the first class dining room, walking on metaphoric eggshells around one another.

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

They were dining with Gerard Argent, the managing director of White Star Line, and Chris Argent, the shipbuilder, as well as few other prominent members of the first class. There were rumors of the captain joining them later, but until then, they were to entrain themselves accordingly. 

Chris was much more humble than his father, passing on the compliments about the craftsmanship of the vessel to the hard work of his men in the shipyard, rather than accept them for himself. Gerard continued to boast about his accomplishments, taking credit for the ship’s luxurious status. Of the two men, Lydia much preferred Chris’ company over his father’s. 

As it was, Lydia could barely follow along with the conversation for her corset was too tight, making it hard to breathe or even think. They were talking about the size and grandeur of the  _ Titanic _ or something like that. Lydia wasn’t really a part of the conversation. She decided that she would try the cigarette that she had taken from Jackson’s collection. She discreetly light the cigarette and placed it in the cigarette holder. She tried to subtly take a drag on the cigarette to avoid upsetting her company. Although she knew certain people, specifically her own mother, would find the act distasteful, it did help to calm Lydia down and settle her nerves.

“Lydia, you know how I feel about that,” Natalie said in a disapproving tone as she glared at her daughter. “That is inappropriate for a lady of our stature.”

Lydia felt the need to rebel against everything holding her back - her mother, Jackson, the restrains of high society. She locked eyes with her mother, daring her to reprimand her in front of the other first class passengers, as she took another drag from her cigarette and then blew the smoke in her direction.

“She knows,” Jackson said as he took the cigarette away from Lydia and stubbed it out before returning his attention back to the menu he was holding.

“We’ll have the lamb with the mint sauce,” Jackson told the waiter before shooing him off. Lydia opened her mouth to object but her desire to protest was short lived when she saw the knowing look Natalie sent her. Jackson turned to Lydia and asked as an afterthought, “You like lamb, don’t you, dear?”

Lydia grimaced, hoping that it came across as a smile to her present company. She knew it didn’t matter if she cared for lamb, which she definitely did not care for at all; the only thing that mattered to Jackson was that he was in control.

Erica Reyes, the wife of an oil tycoon and newest edition to the elite group, watched the interactions unfold. She cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Are you going to cut up and chew her food for her too, Jackson?”

Lydia found herself letting out a small chuckle at the remark. Luckily Jackson and her mother were too offended by Erica’s comment to notice her laugh.

She sent her sympathetic eyes and silently thanked Erica for saying what they were both thinking.

Erica was different than the rest of them. Her husband had recently struck it big in the oil business, gaining their whole fortune practically overnight. They had worked their way up to first class from nothing. She didn’t fit the etiquette of first class, but Lydia liked her anyway. She was only a few years older than Lydia, which made it easier for Lydia to relate to her than the women around her mother’s age. And there was something admirable about the hard work that she and her husband had put in to earn the fortune. Of course, Lydia hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Vernon because he was already in New York awaiting his wife’s return from visiting family in England. Lydia believed that if they were to meet, they would get along swimmingly because everything that she had heard about him suggested that he was a kind and gentle man. 

Changing the subject, Erica turned to Gerald and asked, “Who came up with the name  _ Titanic _ ? Gerard, was it you?”

Gerard sat up straighter, beaming with pride, as he adjusted his bow tie. In a rather haughty tone, he replied, “Yes, I did. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability. Luxury, and safety--”

Sick of hearing him boast, Lydia cut him off. “Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Argent.”

Chris Argent slightly choked on his water, suppressing laughter at Lydia’s insult to his father.

Natalie gasped, her face turning red from embarrassment. She was absolutely mortified at her daughter’s outburst. “My god, Lydia! What has gotten into--”

Lydia didn’t let her finish. Instead stood up and excused herself before stalking off. As she left, she could hear her mother apologizing and making excuses for her rude behavior, but Lydia didn’t care. She just needed to get out of there.

 

* * *

Lydia could see her whole life already planned out as if she had already lived it. It was an endless parade of parties and cotillions and yacht rides and polo matches, always with the same narrow minded people with their mindless chatter. 

There would always be someone or something controlling her; she would never be free or in control of her own life. 

She could feel the walls closing in on her, suffocating her. 

She needed a way out. 

And she needed it right then and there.

She felt like she was standing in a great precipice with no one to pull her back - no one who cared, or even notice.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Lydia could not even recognize the person staring back at her. The girl in the mirror looked like the perfect lady with such lifeless eyes. Lydia could feel the tears well up in her eyes. 

She reached up and ripped off her pearl necklace, causing the pearls to explode across the room, as the tears trailed down her cheeks. She pulls at her hair, undoing her updo and throwing her perfect curls into disarray. 

She stared deeply into the sad eyes of her reflection. A realization dawned on her. 

And in that moment, Lydia knew what she had to do. 

She looked at herself in the mirror one last time and couldn't recognize the crying, unkempt reflection. She reached up to wipe the tears away and smooth down her hair before she stood up and made her way to the door. 

She was determined to take control of her life in the one way she knew how to.

Lydia started walking out to the B deck promenade, with her head held high despite the tears streaming down her face.

When she saw the railing along the bow, a breath hitched in her throat. A sudden urgency hit her, shaking her to her core. She knew what she needed to do and she needed to do it as soon as possible. It just could not wait, for fear of Jackson or her mother stopping her.

Lydia gathered up her skirts in hand and took off running towards the bow of the ship. She pushed past a couple strolling along the promenade, not caring what they would think about her disheveled appearance or emotional outburst.

The tears continue to silently stream down her face. She shock with emotion She was angry, absolutely furious, at how everyone seemed to think they could control her. She hated herself for allowing them to control her the way they did. She just wanted it all to end.

Desperation set in when she reached the end of the promenade. She came to a halt in front of the railing. She stared out into the pitch black water before it. She reached out and laid her hand on the cold metal, absolutely mesmerized by the nothingness before her.

Something inside Lydia changed. She felt a sudden determination as she tightened her grip on the railing. Without even thinking, she began to climb up and over the railing. Her climb was awkward and clumsy due to her dress, but she made due.

Once she is over the railing completely, Lydia strategically moves so that she could face out into the darkness, her back resting against the railing and her feet on the gunwale. The dark expansive ocean before her looked so inviting. 

Sixty feet below her, the ship’s massive propellers churned the water into a white foam, leaving a ghostly wake of into the horizon. Holding on to the rail, Lydia leaned out, looking down at the hypnotizing vortex below her. The only sound she could hear was the rush of the water down below.

All Lydia had to do was let go and she would be free, but she was too distracted by the water to actually let go and set herself free of her mother and Jackson.

She stared out into the water for what felt like an eternity. The black abyss and nothingness before her captivated her. There was something liberating and soothing in the water below.

Lydia straightened herself up. Her mind was finally made up. Just as she was about to let go and jump into the abyss, a strangely familiar, feminine voice called out, “Don’t do it.”

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

Lydia turned to see who was calling out to her, her grip tightening on the railing in panic.

Her eyes locked with the strange girl she had talked to earlier. She thinks her name was Cora or something like that. “Stay back! Don’t come any closer!”

Cora could see the tears tracking down her cheeks from the faint glow of the stern running lights. She knew that something was wrong, but she thought she could help. She cautiously took a step forward and reached out to Lydia. “Take my hand. I’ll pull you back in.”

“No!” Lydia shrieked, visibly shaking. “Stay where you are. I mean it. I’ll let go.”

“No you won’t,” Cora said, the slightest smirk on her face.

“What do you mean no I won’t?” Lydia snapped. “Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don’t know me like that. We’ve only just met this afternoon.”

“If you were going to do it, you would have done it already,” Cora pointed out. “Now come on, take my hand.”

Lydia was confused. Why did this stranger care if she lived? Her sight was obscured by her tears. Lydia reached up to wipe away the tears in order to see the girl, but she almost lost her balance in the process. She quickly grabbed the railing again and centered herself.

“You’re distracting me,” Lydia said, clearly annoyed. “Just leave already.”

“I can’t. I’m involved now,” Cora explained. “If you let go, I have to jump in after you.”

Lydia scoffed. “Don’t be absurd. You’ll be killed.”

“I don’t know - I’m a pretty good swimmer,” Cora mused.

“The fall alone would kill you,” Lydia retorted.

“Maybe,” Cora replied. “I know it would hurt, not saying that it wouldn’t, but that’s not my biggest worry. To be honest, I’m a lot more concern about the water being so cold.”

Lydia looked down at the water below. The reality of what she was doing set in. Her voice quivering, she asked, “How cold?”

“Freezing,” Cora mused as she shrugged off her coat. “Maybe a couple degrees over.”

Lydia let out a small gasp at the girl’s response. She wasn’t expecting the water to be that cold.

Cora reached down to remove her boots. “Ever been to Canada?” she asked.

“No,” Lydia answered, perplexed by such a random question.

“Well, they have some of the coldest winters around,” Cora explained. “I’m from California but we have a bunch of relatives up north in Canada. Once when I was a kid, my brother, Derek, took me out ice fishing on the lake by our Uncle Peter’s house. Ice fishing is where you chop a hole in the--”

“I know what ice fishing is!” Lydia snapped, cutting her off. She was so sick of how Jackson would always undermine her intelligence; she wasn’t about to let some stranger do the same.

“Sorry. Just that you look like an indoor kind of girl,” Cora apologized. “Anyway, I went through some thin ice and let me tell you, water that cold - just like the water down below us there - it hits you like a thousand knives. Sometimes if it's cold enough, you don't even feel the cold - you’ll feel fire instead. You can’t breath, you can’t think. Well, at least, not about anything but the pain.”

Lydia shot her a disconcerting look as Cora continued her story. “That is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in after you. But like I said, I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I’m already involved. I guess I’m just hoping you’ll come back over the railing and get me off the hook here.”

“You’re crazy,” Lydia exclaimed.

“That’s what people tell me. But with all due respect, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship,” Cora retorted. She slowly took a step closer, in a similar manner as she would if she were approaching a spooked horse or growling dog.

“Come on. You don’t want to do this,” she said in a calm voice. She reached out to Lydia again, her hand outstretched and open. “Give me your hand.”

Lydia turned to face Cora again. She stared at her for what felt like an entirety, questioning which one of them was currently the sane.

When she looked into the other woman's eyes, it felt as though the rest of the universe had melted away. There was something in her eyes that made Lydia feel as though she had known Cora her whole life, or perhaps they were soul mates in a past life. In that instant, Lydia knew she would trust this girl, this complete stranger, with her life.

Lydia took Cora’s hand and let her lead her back to safety.

As she decided that she wants to live, the sudden realization of the what she was doing set in. The height became utterly terrifying to her. She peeked down at the water below, only to be overcome by vertigo. She clutched to the railing and Cora’s hand.

Once her head stopped spinning, Lydia made her slow ascent back over the railing. As she climbed her dress got in the way, causing her foot to slip off the edge of the deck.

Lydia shrieked as she plunged downward. She didn’t want to die this way, not anymore. Cora, who was gripping her hand, was jerked toward the railing. Lydia just barely grabbed onto the lower rail with her free hand.

“Help! Please help me!” Lydia cried out, fearing for her life.

Cora’s grip on her hand tightened. “I’ve got you. I won’t let go, I promise. I’ve got you.”

Bracing herself against the the railing with her free hand, Cora gripped on to Lydia’s hand with all her strength. She was certain that if Lydia actually fell, she’d pull her down too. Lydia tried to get some kind of foothold onto the smooth hull to no avail; she cannot get any footing in her dress and evening shoes. Lydia slipped again as Cora attempted to pull her up.

Lydia let out a blood curdling scream. “Please save me! I don’t want to die like this!”

“You’re not going to,” Cora huffed out as she struggled to maintain a grip on Lydia as she flailed. “I’ve got you. Pull yourself up. Come on.”

Lydia tried to lift herself up as Cora pulled with all her might, and with their combined efforts, they were Lydia up and over the railing to safety. Cora lost her balance and the two fell back onto the deck together in a tangled heap, tumbling in a way that resulted in Cora on top of Lydia.

The two laid there, out of breath, staring at one another. Neither could believe just how close to death they had just come.

“It’s Hale,” Cora said, staring down into Lydia’s eyes.

Lydia’s nose scrunched in confusion. “What?”

“When we first meet, I promised I would tell you my full name if we ever meet again,” Cora explained. “My name is Cora Hale.”

Lydia nodded, fully aware of how close they were to one another as they laid with their bodies flushed together. She could make out the faint constellations of freckles that lightly dusted across Cora’s cheeks. If either of the girls had a whim to kiss the other, they were only inches away. Lydia stole a glance down at Cora’s lips, silently wishing for the courage to kiss her. To hell with social conventions, no one could see them and report them.

Instead, she replied. “Nice to meet you. My name is Lydia Martin.”

“I know,” Cora said. It was then Cora’s turn to steal a glance at Lydia’s lips. Oh how she wanted to kiss the beautiful girl lying below her, but she knew it was considered wrong for two women to engage in such activity.

Instead the two girls laid there, staring into each other’s eyes. Neither of them dared to move. It was as if they were the only two people left in the whole universe. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't until they heard shouting did the two girls snap back to reality.

From a distance it must have looked like some low class man was attempting to take advantage of Lydia, with her so dishevelled and sobbing on the deck floor.

Jackson  and his men rushed over to the pair and pulled Cora off of Lydia. He noticed the tears on Lydia’s dress and how the hem was pushed up above her knees, revealing a ripped stocking. A wave of anger shot through him. No one was to behave in such an unruly manner with his fianceé, expect for him - not that she ever gave him the chance.  

“What makes you think you could just put your hands on my fianceé? Look at me when I speak to you, you filth! What doing you think you were doing?” Jackson yelled as he pushed Cora back. He threw a punch at her, but she managed to duck. That only made him angrier. He threw another punch, and this time he made contact.

Ethan and Aiden soon joined in on the fight at Jackson’s orders. It quickly became very clear that it was going to be an unfair fight. Lydia knew she had to intervene somehow.

“Jackson, stop! It was an accident,” Lydia yelled, trying to keep the men from beating Cora to a bloody pulp for simply saving her life.

Jackson stopped mid punch, his fist hovering mere inches away from her face. “An accident? How on earth could this be an accident?”

“I was leaning over and I slipped,” Lydia explained. A blush crept across her cheeks as she looked down nervously. She hoped Jackson would believe her.

A sudden wave of shame washed over Lydia. She didn’t want everyone to know just what she was trying to do. Jackson would surely call off the engagement and her family would have her locked away for the rest of her life to keep her from being a disgrace to the family.

Lydia looked over at Cora. The two girls locked eyes as Lydia silently pleaded to her to not say anything about what had really happened. Cora gave her a subtle nod in understanding.

“I was leaning way over, trying to see the…” Lydia said, twirling her hand as she searched for the right word. She knew Jackson always thought she was dumb, so she might as well play the part. “What’s the word, dear?”

“Propellers?” Jackson supplied, irritation in his voice.

“Yes! Thank you,” Lydia exclaimed before continuing her story. “I was leaning way over to see the propellers. But I slipped and I would have gone overboard. This woman here saved me and she almost went over herself.”

Aiden rolled his eyes and scoffed in the background. “Women and machinery do not mix.”

Jackson turned his attention back to Cora, his eyes were narrow and hard. “Is that what happened?”

“Yeah. That was pretty much it,” Cora replied. She stole a glance back at Lydia. The two locked eyes. Lydia silently thanked her for going along with her lie.

Jackson continued to stare at Cora for a few moments longer. If he did not believe them, he did not let it show. Aiden sneered at her from behind him.

“Well then, the girl’s a hero. Good for you, well done,” Ethan replied, in an attempt to break the tension. The remark, which on the surface seemed kind, dripped with sarcasm. None of the men truly cared. “Why don’t we head back to our brandy, if all is well?”

Jackson turns his attention back to Lydia. He rubbed her arms, showcasing dominance to Cora rather than actual affection to Lydia. “Let’s get you back inside. You must be freezing.”

Jackson began to lead Lydia back inside, leaving without a second thought for Cora.

As they were leaving, Gerard, who had been watching from the sideline, remarked, “Ah...perhaps a little something for the girl?”

Jackson stopped in his tracks and turned to the twins. “Oh, right. Aiden, a twenty should do it.”

And with that, Jackson was already continuing his way back inside. He held such little regard to Cora. If it wasn’t for Gerard’s comment, he would have left her with nothing.

“Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?” Lydia asked, offended that Jackson would offer so little to the person who just saved her life.

Jackson stopped once again. A look of disgust spread across his face but vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“Lydia is displeased. Mmm... what to do?” Jackson murmured as he tapped his chin in a thoughtful manner. “Oh, I know.”

He turned to Cora. He looked her up and down as if appraising her worth. All he could see was a steerage ruffian, unwashed and ill-mannered. “Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?”

Cora looked directly at Lydia as she accepted Jackson’s invitation. Lydia blushed under her gaze. The interaction went unnoticed by Jackson, but his trusted men, the Steiner twins, did not miss it. Aiden raised an eyebrow in question. He knew that Lydia and Cora weren’t giving them the full story. He was determined to get to the bottom of it at once.

Jackson put a protective arm around Lydia as he lead her inside once more, finally being able to do so without being interrupted. The twins followed closely behind them.

Cora stopped Aiden as he passed. “Can I bum a cigarette?”

Aiden made a face of disgust, but obliged. He smoothly drew out a silver cigarette case out of his jacket pocket and snapped it open. Cora pulled out one cigarette, and then after a moment’s pause, pulled out a second and tucked it behind her ear for later. Aiden placed the case back into his pocket and pulled out a lighter to light Cora’s cigarette for her. He gestured down to her shoes. “You’ll want to tie those.”

Cora looked down and noticed that her shoes were still untied. She had forgotten all about them.

“Interesting how the young lady slipped so mighty all of a sudden and yet you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes,” Aiden remarked. His expression remained neutral but his eyes were cold. He didn’t trust Cora and wanted her to know it.  With that, he left to rejoin his group, leaving Cora out in the cold.

 

* * *

 

Lydia sat at her vanity, brushing out her strawberry blonde hair. The day’s events took a lot out of her. And yet she couldn’t stop thinking of Cora. She decided she would have to go visit her tomorrow and thank her again for saving her.

She heard someone clear their throat. Lydia looked up and saw Jackson’s reflection in the mirror as he stood in the doorway of her room. He slowly made his way over to her. Lydia did her best not to flinch when he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“I know you’ve been melancholy and I can’t pretend to know why,” Jackson said uncharacteristically soft as he caressed her arm. “But perhaps I have something to cheer you up.”

Lydia wasn’t used to Jackson being so tender, but she thought perhaps he had a change of heart after almost losing her.

He pulled a large black velvet jewel case out from behind his back and hands it to her. Lydia holds it numbly. There was something about receiving a gift after all that had transpired earlier that day just didn’t sit well with Lydia.

“I intended to save this until the engagement gala next week. But I thought tonight, perhaps, a reminder for my feelings for you would be best,” Jackson explained.

Lydia slowly opened the box. Inside was a heart shaped necklace with a large red stone that glittered with an infinity of cut like small inner reflections. A dozen or so small diamonds aligned the outer edge of the stone.

Lydia could not believe her eyes. She may have had a large collection of jewelry and gems, but she had never seen such an exquisite jewel before.“My God… Jackson. Is it a--”

“Ruby? Yes it is. 56 carats to be exact,” Jackson interrupted. He took the necklace out of Lydia’s hands and placed it around her neck. He turned her to look in the mirror. He stood behind her and stared at her reflection. “It once belonged to King Louis the Sixteenth of France. They called it _le coeur du loup_.”

“The heart of the wolf?” Lydia asked, confused by the peculiar name for such a beautiful necklace.

“The legend says that a young lord was passing through a village when he met and fell in love with a peasant girl. The girl, however, had be betrothed to a wealthy merchant. He challenged the merchant for the girl’s hand in marriage. To prove which man was worthy of the girl, the men were to go out into the woods and slay a deadly creature to prove their bravery and honor. The merchant killed a giant elk the very first night and then returned to the village to celebrate his victory. The young lord remained out in the woods for days upon days. When he finally returned, he carried a giant wolf, just barely alive, over his shoulders. He laid the wounded wolf down at the merchant’s feet and then cut out the wolf’s heart, killing the beast, once and for all. Inside the wolf’s heart was this beautiful stone. The young lord then killed the merchant before presenting the stone to the girl’s father to earn his blessing. The stone was then set into a necklace for the girl to wear on her wedding day,” Jackson explained. “The necklace represents eternal love and devotion. I would do anything for you like the young lord did for the peasant girl. I would kill anyone or anything that tried to keep us apart.”

Lydia didn’t know what to say. The necklace, the legend, Jackson - everything was just too much. She knew that their relationship could not live up to the legendary love that the necklace stood for. She just didn't feel that way about Jackson. There was no way she could accept the necklace after hearing that story, but she didn't know how to reject Jackson’s gift without angering him. “It’s...it’s overwhelming.”

“It is for royalty,” Jackson stated as he gazed at their reflections. “And we are royalty, Lydia.”

His fingers gently caressed her neck and throat. Lydia resisted the urge to shudder. There was something unnatural with Jackson’s sudden kindness. “You know there is nothing that I could not give you. And there is nothing I would deny you, if you would not deny me.”

He gave her a meaningful look in the mirror before getting up to leave. As he was leaving, Jackson paused and called out, “Make sure to put it back in the safe when you’re done admiring. It was quite expensive. Wouldn’t want it to do missing, now would we?”

A realization washed over Lydia. The gift was only to reflect light back onto himself, to illuminate the greatness that was Jackson Whittemore - not an act of love. It was a cold stone that showed Lydia just what her future with him would be like - cold and loveless.

The necklace began to feel more and more like a dog collar, chaining her to Jackson, the longer she wore it.

She reached up and undid the clasp. With the necklace off, Lydia felt as though she could finally breath again. The sensation of wearing the necklace was one that she hated. She felt weak and powerless with the necklace on, like she was just a puppet for Jackson to control with his money and expensive gifts.

As she placed it back into the safe, Lydia decided that she would never willingly wear that necklace ever again. It was too much like a leash for her liking.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

* * *

 

The next day, Lydia was determined to go seek out Cora and thank her once again for both saving her and keeping her secret.

Making her way through the third class general room, Lydia noticed the stark difference between the opulent first class and the destitute third class. The walls were plain and any other forms of ornate decorations were absent. It was like stepping into another world.

But what the third class general room lacked in decor, it made up for the lively spirits of its inhabitants. The room was a loud and boisterous place. There were mothers, trying to comfort their crying babies. Children ran between the benches, yelling in various languages as they played tag and other games, only to be scolded in a several more languages by parents and onlookers alike. Young girls sat and did needlepoint or read dime novels. The men played chess. Women sat and talked. One man sat at an upright piano, fiddling away at it, providing some entertainment for the children. Everywhere Lydia looked, there was some form of activity going on. It was a very lively place in comparison to the first class parlor room that she was used to.

It wasn’t until people began to notice Lydia did all activity in the room stop, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. She was an outsider who didn’t belong there. Lydia felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness as the steerage passengers stared openly at her. Some stared with resentment, others with awe.

Lydia was beginning to think that she had made a mistake going down there until she spotted Cora near the man at the piano. She gave a small smile, feeling at ease with her decision to visit in the first place again, and made her way over to her.

Cora rose up from her seat to meet her, a smile on her face.

“Hello Cora,” Lydia greeted. The man who Cora had been sitting beside looked absolutely astonished. Lydia turned to him briefly. “Hello, Sir.”

Hello again,” Cora responded. She gestured to the man. “This is my brother, Derek. I had mentioned him to you last night.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lydia said, addressing him. Derek mumbled out a hello in response. Lydia then turned her attention back to Cora. “Could I speak to you in private?”

Cora nodded and gestured back to the doorway that Lydia had entered through. “Of course. After you.”

Lydia turned around and began to exit as Cora followed close behind. The two exited the room together, leaving a stunned silence among their wake.

 

* * *

 

Lydia led Cora up to the first class boat deck. The two walked side by side as the strolled down the deck, enjoying the fresh air. They passed by people relaxing in the steamer chairs as they read or talked. Several of the onlookers glanced curiously at the mismatched pair. Cora, who was usually very confident, felt a wave of insecurity wash over her as she noticed the people’s stares. She felt out of place in her old hand-me-downs surrounded by such wealthy and well dressed people.

An awkward silence fell between the two girls as they walked. Neither really knew what to say to one another. All their bravado from earlier seemed to dissipate.

Lydia looked over, stealing a glance at Cora. She knew she need to say something to her. She took a deep breath. “Cora… I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you.”

“Well, here you are,” Cora replied, not wanting to interrupt but to allow Lydia the time to compose her thoughts. She could tell that Lydia was still a little nervous about talking to her.

“Here I am,” Lydia agreed. She took another deep breath before continuing. “I... I just want to thank you for what you did. Not just for… for pulling me back. But your discretion.”

Cora stopped in her tracks. Lydia followed suit. Cora looked across earnestly at Lydia’s face. “You’re welcome, Lydia.”

There was a softness in the way Cora stared into her eyes. Lydia could feel herself fantasizing about that small farmhouse from her daydream yesterday. She knew she couldn’t ever have that, but staring into Cora’s eyes made her want it even more. Lydia found herself pulling back away from Cora, as she tried to distance herself from her pipedream.

“Look, I know what you must be thinking,” Lydia started, self-depectricating and bitter. “Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?”

Cora’s eyes widen. She wasn’t expecting something that harsh from Lydia. She reached out to comfort her. “That’s not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was what could have happened to hurt this girl so much that she thought she had no way out.”

“I don’t…” Lydia began. She reached up and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face as she tried to find the right words. “It wasn’t just one thing. It was everything. It was them. It was their whole world. And I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber.”

Lydia looked over at Cora to make sure she was still following her and her train of thought. When she was that Cora was listening intently, Lydia continued, “I just had to get away… just run and run and run… but then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship. Even the _Titanic_ wasn’t big enough - not enough to get away from them. And before I’d really thought about it, I was over the rail. God, I was so furious. I’ll show them, I thought. They’ll be sorry!”

Cora nodded. “Uh huh. They’ll be sorry. ‘Course you’ll be dead too.”

Lydia raised a hand to cover her face as she lowered her head in embarrassment.  “Oh God, I am such an utter fool.”

A silence fell over them. Lydia wasn’t sure if she could continue their current conversation due to embarrassment and shame but Cora broke the silence by asking, “That penguin last night, is he one of them?”

“Penguin?” Lydia asked, confused, but she quickly put it together. “Oh, Jackson! He is them. He is the epitome of them.”

Cora nodded again before asking, “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Worse I’m afraid.” Lydia lifted her hand to show off her engagement ring. The diamond glittered in the sunlight.

“God, look at that thing!” Cora exclaimed as she looked down on the ring on Lydia’s ring finger. Cora could have never dreamed that she would have ever been so close to such a large diamond. “You would have sunk straight to the bottom.”

The two girls laughed together. A passing steward scowled at Cora, who was clearly not a first class passenger, but Lydia just glared at him until he left.

Putting the pieces together, Cora replied, “So you feel like you’re stuck on a train you can’t get off of because you’re marrying this fella.”

“Yes, exactly!” Lydia exclaimed loudly. She was glad that someone else understood how she felt about the how ordeal.

“So don’t marry him,” Cora said as if it was the most simple and obvious answer to Lydia’s predicament.

Lydia sighed sadly. “If only it were that simple.”

“It is that simple,” Cora replied, not seeing how Lydia couldn’t just walk away from Jackson if she really wanted.

“Oh, Cora,” Lydia pleaded. “Please don’t judge me until you’ve seen my world.”

Cora sighed. “Well, I guess I will tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia needed the current conversation to stop. She wanted to talk about anything, anything at all, as long as it wasn’t about Jackson, her engagement, or how miserable she felt trapped in the first class. She looked down and noticed the book that Cora had been holding the entire time.

“What’s this?” Lydia asked, pointing to the book.

“Just some sketches,” Cora replied as she lifted the book up to Lydia.

Lydia reached out and grabbed the book. She sat down on one of the deck chairs and gesturing for Cora to sit down beside her.

“May I?” Lydia asked as she already began to open the sketchbook to look through it.

The sketches started out as mundane life: an old woman’s hands, a sleeping man, a father and daughter standing by the rail, but there was something so lovely about them. The faces were luminous and alive. All the strokes were fluid and yet striking and deliberate. The book was like a celebration of the human condition.

“These are quite lovely,” Lydia complimented as she flipped through Cora’s sketchbook. “Really, they are.”

Cora watched as Lydia flipped through the pages, silently wishing that she could be sketching Lydia’s reactions to her work. She had never seen someone so genuine and beautiful. “Well, they didn’t think too much of them in Paris.”

As Lydia turned the page, a few loose sketches fell out and started to fly off in the wind. Cora scrambled after them, catching two, but the rest had already done over the rail.

“Oh no! Oh, I’m so sorry. Truly!” Lydia apologized, upset over losing Cora’s sketches.

Cora shook her head, not wanting Lydia to feel any guilt over losing the sketches. “Well they didn’t too much of them in Paris. I just seem to spew them out. Besides, they’re not worth a damn anyway.”

For emphasis, Cora threw away the two that she had caught. The two girls watch them sail off.

Lydia let out a laugh at Cora’s antics, relieved that she wasn’t upset at her. “You’re deranged!”

Lydia turned her attention back to the sketchbook, flipping the page.

“Well, well,” Lydia said as she came across a series of nudes. “What do we have here?”

The nudes were beautiful and real with expressive hands and eyes. They felt more like portraits that captured the very soul and essence of the model rather than studies of the human form. There was an almost uncomfortable intimacy and beauty to the sketches that absolutely transfixed Lydia.

She felt a blush creep across her face as her eyes lingered on a nude of a slender raven-haired beauty. Lydia quickly closed the book when fellow passengers strolled past. Once they had passed, she carefully reopened the book to take another look at the sketches.

In an attempt to be very mature, Lydia sat up straighter and asked in a somber voice, “And these were drawn from life?”

Cora let out a chuckle, finding enjoyment in Lydia’s attempt to ignore any unease the drawings provoked in her. “Yeah. That’s one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls willing to take their clothes off.”

Lydia gave her an uneasy smile, unsure what to say before directing her attention back to the sketchbook. She studied the drawing of the brunette. The girl, or should she say woman, was posed half in sunlight, half in shadow, with her hands lying by her chin. For contrast one hand furled while the other opened like a flower, languid and graceful. Her eyes twinkled with the secrets of the universe while her smile and dimples seemed to beckon you forward, as though she may grace you with the wonders and secrets of the universe if you were lucky. Lydia had never met the woman before but the sketch made her feel as if she had already knew her.

“You liked this woman,” Lydia commented. She turned the page to find multiple sketches of the same woman. “You used her several times.”

“Allison,” Cora said in a dreamy voice, staring off into the distance. “She had beautiful hands.”

Lydia smiled fondly at her. “I think you must have had a love affair with her.”

Cora laughed joyfully, not even shying away from the mere idea of being in love with another woman. “No, no! Just her hands. She is a lovely woman, but she is actually in love with my brother. They’re going to get married once Derek returns to France. He just wants to break the news to our older sister in person first. That’s why we’re going back home.”

The two sat together in a comfortable silence as Lydia continued to look through the sketchbook. She was amazed by Cora’s talents. Once she finished, Lydia closed the book gently and looked up at Cora, with love in her eyes.

“You have a gift, Cora,” Lydia complimented. “You do. You see people.”

Cora’s gaze pierced Lydia’s heart and soul. “I see you.”

“And?” Lydia asked softly, wondering just how she appeared to Cora.

“You wouldn’t have jumped,” Cora concluded as she watched Lydia with wonder and awe in her eyes.

The two girls talked and joked about the most trivial of things and yet their conversation was one of the deepest ones Lydia had in quite a while. Cora didn’t dismiss her opinions like Jackson or her mother constantly would. She would listen intently, actually caring for what Lydia had to say. Lydia found her an easy person to open up to, a rare occurrence in her own life.

The topic of conversation shifted quickly to hopes and dreams and for once, Lydia felt like she could share her own dreams without the fear of being ridiculed.

“You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist,” Lydia stated cheerfully. “Living in a garret, poor but free!”

Cora laughed joyfully. With absolutely no malice in her voice, she replied, “You wouldn’t last two days. There’s no hot water, and hardly ever any caviar.”

“Listen, buster!” Lydia yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Cora. She knew that Cora hadn’t meant to say anything cruel about her dream but she had been so used to Jackson and her mother’s negative reactions to her own hopes and dreams, Lydia refused to let her say anything negative about it, even in just a joking manner. “I hate caviar! And I’m tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head.”

“I’m sorry,” Cora apologized, realizing that she struck a nerve. She did not intend to upset Lydia the way that she did. “Really, I am.”

Once Lydia had accepted Cora’s apology, the conversation shifted once again as it took on a more playful demeanor.

The two girls talked for hours on end and yet it only felt as though minutes had passed. The more that Lydia learned about Cora, the more she felt as though Cora had been the one thing missing from her life all these years. It was as though she had always known Cora - as though they were together in a past life, and just being with her now was like finally taking a breath of air after being held underwater for so long.

 

* * *

 

 

The conversation soon switched over to Cora’s plans for her future. “So then what Miss Wandering Cora?”

She tilted her head in consideration as she stared out over the railing, watching how the orange sun reflected off the waves. “Well, Derek and I are returning to Beacon Hills to tell Laura the good news. After that, Derek will head back to France to see Allison. I’ll most likely go down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. That’s a really swell place, they even have a rollercoaster. We used to go there as kids. I’ll be able to sketch some portraits for ten cents a piece as I figure out where to go from there.”

“A whole ten cents?” Lydia asked, shocked at Cora selling her art for just pennies. She knew Cora was too talented for that. Ten cents was nothing compared to Cora’s talent - Lydia knew that she had Jackson pay much more for works of artists of similar quality.

Cora shot Lydia a confused look, unsure as to why she was shocked at the ten cents. It was a reasonable price to her. “Yeah, it can be great money. I’ve done it before and could make a dollar a day sometimes. But that’s only in the summer. When it gets cold, I’ll have to figure out where to go from there.”

Looking out at the dusk sky, Lydia sighed. “Why can’t I be like you Cora? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it.”

Perking up, Lydia turned to her. “Say we’ll go there, sometime...to that pier - even if we only ever just talk about it.”

Cora smiled at her, enjoying the idea of a possible future with Lydia in it - even if they both knew it wasn’t actually possible. “Alright, we’re going. We’ll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster until we throw up. We’ll ride horse on the beach, right in the surf, but you’ll have to ride like a cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff. No one except the snooty rich folk do that there. If we’re going together, you’ll have to fit in with me.”

Lydia giggled. “You mean one leg on each side? Scandalous! Can you show me?”

“Sure. If you’d like,” Cora replied. “Derek taught me how to ride a horse when I was little, I’m sure I could teach you.”

Lydia smiled fondly at her. “I think I would.”

Looking back out at the ocean, she added, “Oh. I always wanted to learn to spit too. Like a man. Why should only men be able to spit. It’s unfair.”

Cora laughed. “They didn’t teach you that in finishing school? Here, it’s easy. Anyone can do it. Watch closely.”

She cleared her throat and spit out over the rail, the spitwad gracefully arcing out over the water. “Your turn.”

Lydia scrunched up nose and she readied herself to spit. A pathetic little bit of foamy spittle mostly just ran down ran down her chin before falling into the water. She looked up feebishly at Cora, who was holding back a laugh.

“Nope, that was pitiful. It’s more like this,” Cora explained, coaching her through the motions of to properly spit. “Here let’s try again.”

Lydia followed the steps that Cora gave her and spit over the railing. Cora stepped up and spit over the rail alongside her.

“That was perfect!” Cora exclaimed gleefully.

Lydia turned to her, her face alight with joy. Once she was her mother and her high-class companions - the Countess of Calavera and Erica Reyes, were walking toward them, Lydia blanched suddenly, wishing she could sink into the floorboards.

Cora noticed her sudden change in expression and turned to see what had upset her.

Lydia instinctually smoothed down her skirt, gaining composure instantiusly. “Mother, may I introduce Cora Hale.”

Natalie looked down upon her with destain. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Lydia went on to proceed with the introductions to let the women know of Cora’s act of bravery.

Unbeknownst to her, Cora still had a bit of spit running down her cheek. Erica smiled warmly at her and subtly alerted her to the spit on her chin. Cora quickly wiped it away and silently thank Erica for the warning.

The others were gracious and curious about the woman who had saved Lydia’s life, but Natalie looked at her like she was an insect that must quickly be squashed beneath one’s boot.

“Well, Cora, it sounds like you’re a good person to have around in a sticky spot--” Erica remarked, cut off by a loud bugle call right behind them, signifying the meal time. The whole group jumped. startled by the sudden noise.

“Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?” Erica complained. Cora couldn’t help but chuckle at her remark.

Lydia turned to Natalie. “Shall we go dress, Mother?”

Natalie simply began to walk off in the direction of their cabin without a word to the ruffian her daughter insisted on spending time with.

Lydia turned back over her shoulder and called out, “See you at dinner, Cora.”

As they walked away, Natalie chastised her daughter for her improper behavior and lack of a hat out in the sun.

The Countess followed after Natalie and Lydia, leaving Cora and Erica alone on the deck.

“Girl, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you’re doing?” Erica asked bluntly.

Cora shrugged. “Not really.”

“You’re about to go into the snakepit,” Erica warned. “I hope you’re ready. What are you planning to wear?”

Cora looked down at her clothes and then back up to Erica. She hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t think she had anything that would be nice enough for the first class dining hall.

“I figured,” Erica said, rolling her eyes ever so slightly. “Come with me. I think I have just the thing.”

Erica held out her hand to lead Cora off on their own adventure to prepare for the dinner of a lifetime.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I haven't updated this fic in a while but I've been so busy with school, work, and family drama that my writing has taken a backseat for awhile. 
> 
> Chapter updates may be rather irregular since I have real life commitments to attend to first, but I do plan on continuing and actually finishing this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Title based on lyrics from "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift  
>   
> Come find me on tumblr [here](http://www.maliayukimura.tumblr.com)


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